


The Wand Chooses the Wizard

by The_Black_Cat



Series: Vera sisters at Hogwarts [1]
Category: Charmed (TV 1998), Charmed (TV 2018), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26024665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Black_Cat/pseuds/The_Black_Cat
Summary: After eleven years spent in Muggle Michigan, Mel learns that she is a witch and is supposed to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But before she can start exploring the ancient castle, she needs to get her wand. And what better place to do so than Ollivanders?ORThe Charmed / Hogwarts crossover nobody asked for. The series is going to be mostly about Mel and her adventures in Hogwarts, but her sisters and other characters make an appearance. Get ready for the magical character study hidden in wand woods, spells and other shenanigans!
Series: Vera sisters at Hogwarts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889026





	The Wand Chooses the Wizard

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! 
> 
> I've played with the idea of combining Charmed and Hogwarts since season 1, but I just now got to make something of it. There are quite a few characters study elements in this one, and will probably appear in other installations of the series if I decide to continue working on this. I've spent hours researching wand woods and cores and lengths and all that, trying to match wands to the girls' personalities and temperaments, and I only hope I've matched them correctly. 
> 
> The story, and the series as a whole, will be focused predominantly on Mel. Macy and Maggie will appear and will play an important part, but for now, the focus is on Mel. Later on, I might write something about Macy and Maggie, or even Abby or Parker if you guys would like to see that.
> 
> I will definitely be posting at least one more story. I have ideas for some one-shots or short multi-chapter stories that would fit into this universe, so please, let me know if you want to read more. 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

The first time Mel stepped foot in the Diagon Alley, she was overwhelmed. She’d never seen anything magical before, besides the few spells deputy headmistress of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Piper Halliwell, had shown her on the evening of her eleventh birthday, so seeing a whole alley filled with magic was amazing.

She only wished her dad was there to see it, too. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t there because not only did Marisol keep their heritage as witches a secret from him, she also forgot to mention that she had had a daughter with another man before she had married Ray Vera and now that daughter was going to this amazing wizarding school in Scotland and her father, who was apparently Maggie’s biological father as well, had taken the liberty of signing both Mel and Maggie to Hogwarts so that the sisters could be together. It was difficult to wrap her head around and Mel still didn’t understand a lot of it. She just knew that her dad wasn’t with them and that it was her mom’s fault.

Still, Mel found herself enjoying the place. They went to almost every store, from Amanuensis Quills to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Maggie’s favourite was the Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, and both girls couldn’t get enough of the strange creatures in Magical Menagerie. They left the store with a small tawny owl named Kit comfortably huddled up in a cage and a lean, black cat by the name of Belthazor that immediately took a residence on Mel’s shoulders.

They spent the whole day going between the shops, buying everything on the list Hogwarts had provided and many of the things their mom said she needed to stock up on. Living with a non-magical man who knew nothing of magic for twelve years was, apparently, very bad for the practising of her craft.

“All right, looks like we have almost everything,” Marisol smiled down at her daughters. “We just need your wand. Ollivanders are said to have some of the best wands.”

“Is that why we went all the way to London?” Mel questioned. “America must have places like this, too.”

“It does,” Marisol agreed readily, “and quite a few of them. There are six streets like this in Boston, four in New York, two in LA, and there are towns and villages where only witches and wizards live. There’s also Ilvermorny school, where I went.”

“Why aren’t we going there?”

“Because,” Marisol took a deep breath and let it out in a slow, steady stream. “Because Hogwarts has long been the second-best wizarding school in the world. If the best one wasn’t located in Japan, I would send you girls there.”

“But, how come we are signed into that school? We didn’t apply!” Mel protested with a frown. She liked the idea of magic, and she liked the idea of studying it in the best school possible, but it bugged her that she couldn’t stay home. She liked her home, she liked her family. She didn’t want to leave for ten months each ear until she was seventeen. That was too long. She’d miss so much! Maggie was still growing up! What if she needed protecting from bullies or something, and Mel won’t be there? There must be a way that would allow her to learn magic and to take care of her sister at the same time!

“And You didn’t need to apply,” Mel’s mom continued. “Your sisters’ father signed both you and Maggie up when you were both born.”

“But we didn’t know about it! That’s taking advantage! That is wrong!”

“Sometimes, it is for good things.”

“If it’s wrong, how can it be for good things?” Mel frowned, crossing her arms over her chest to fast the bags she held slammed into her.

“Melly,” Marisol sighed. “Sometimes, the wrong things are used with good intentions. And sometimes, good things are used to cause harm.”

“But why?”

“Because some people don’t see good and bad the same way we do. What you should do is always strive to do good things with good intentions. Always try to help and protect those who deserve it, and try to understand.”

Mel nodded solemnly, trying to commit the words to her memory.

“Right. We’re here,” Marisol pointed to the small shop they stopped at. It looked old, Mel noticed, its strangely grey colour contrasted with the vibrant colours of the shops and stands around it. Above the entrance, in faded, peeling gold letters was the inscription: ‘Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.’ That must have been a long time ago, Mel thought, no wonder the shop looked so shabby.

In the display, there was a single, old-looking wand placed on a faded cushion. It looked just as shabby as the store itself, and Mel wondered how such a small, plain-looking object could be the source of such great power as magic. She’d only seen her mom’s wand a few times, but each of those times, the wand produced some amazing spell or another. Mel couldn’t wait until she was able to do things like that. Only that wand she saw, lying on that cushion, didn’t look anything like her mom’s wand. It didn’t look like it could give anyone the power her mom’s wand offered.

Maybe it was because her mom’s wand was made in America. Maybe these British wands weren’t as good for magic as other wands.

Or maybe, Mel reasoned, maybe it was this single wand that looked this shabby. Besides, it’s not about looks. She was small for her age and she had still managed to kick Brian into tears after he had made fun of Maggie.

“You’ll have to go in alone. I don’t think they’re going to let Maggie in with her ice-cream,” Marisol remarked and Maggie, who had half of her face covered with the sweet treat, mumbled out an apology. “I also don’t think they’ll be happy with Belthazor running rampant in there. Here’s the money, we’ll be waiting for you right here.”

“But what if it takes too long?”

“I would be surprised if it didn’t,” Marisol smiled down at her daughter. “Melly, getting a wand is much more complicated than walking into a store and taking the first one you see. And for a good reason, too.”

“Why?”

“Every wand is different, just like every witch and wizard is different. You’ll see.”

Mel frowned at the explanation, or rather lack thereof, but she nonetheless placed Belthazor in her mom’s waiting arms and walked towards the wand store.

There was a soft ringing of a bell from somewhere above her when she opened the door, but she didn’t even try to find it. She was too busy scanning the small shop. It looked old, with only a counter about three feet away from the door and a small chair in the corner. Apart from that, the store was filled to the brim with rows and rows of small, long, neat boxes. There were cobwebs under the ceiling and layers of dust of varying thickness on every surface in the store. She could even see the dust swirling in the air around her. While she wasn’t a tidy person, per se, this was way beyond her comfort levels.

Clearing her throat, Mel called out. “Hello!”

There was a thud from somewhere between the rows of boxes, and then a strange man popped out. His hair, while short, was white as snow and all over the place and his eyes were the palest colour Mel had ever seen. He had a strange expression on his face, one that made Mel feel like she was studied. Even though she could feel the uncomfortable unease swirling in her stomach like a bunch of snakes, Mel clenched her jaw and set her head high.

“Well, hello there,” the man said in a soft, pleasant voice. “Excuse my forwardness, but are you muggle-born?”

“Muggle-born?”

“A muggle is what we here in Britain call a person with no magical abilities who comes from a non-magical family. A muggle-born witch or wizard is a person who comes from a muggle family but has magic in their blood.”

“Uh-huh. Well, mom’s a witch,” Mel responded, frowning. Why would this man know her family?

“Ah, American. That makes sense. You see, I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, and I remember every person I’ve sold a wand to.”

Mel frowned even more.

“I am Gaerhar Ollivander,” the man introduced himself with a slight bow.

“Melanie Vera.”

“Hmm… you’re here for your first wand, then? Very well, first I need to take some measurements. Which is your wand hand?”

“Uhm, I guess…” muttering, Mel lifted up her right hand. Mr Ollivander produced a long tape-measure, which then proceeded to fly around Mel on its own, measuring the length of her whole arm, then the space between her elbow and her pinkie, then from her shoulder to her ankle, then around her wrist.

While the measure wrapped around various parts of Mel, Mr Ollivander walked around the store and pulled out different black-boxed, only to put them onto the counter.

“You remind me very much of a young lady who came here to buy her first wand four years ago. Macy Vaughn. Very sweet girl, that one, very polite, if a bit distant. And rather stubborn, too. You could be sisters. She chose a yew wand, unicorn hair core, nine inches, rather supple. An excellent wand for charmwork, I dare say.”

Mel frowned. She didn’t want to have anything in common with her sister and she didn’t want people to associate them together. “What does that have to do with me?”

Mr Ollivander hummed, pulling our more and more boxes. He occasionally took some of the boxes from the counter and returned them to the shelves, but the pile on the counter grew still.

“Naturally, every person is different and every wand is different. Although, in some families, certain traits tend to flow in the family, and wizards from one family tend to choose similar wands. Well, I shouldn’t have said that they choose it. You see, Miss Vera, it’s the wand that chooses its wizard. All wands have different personalities based on the wood, core, length and flexibility. The wand bonds with a witch or wizard that suits it best, personality-wise. Different wandmakers use different woods and different cores. The core, you see, is a strong magical substance that helps focus and strengthen the magic witches and wizards have in them. Here at Ollivanders, we use three types of cores: the hair of a unicorn, the feather of a phoenix and the heartstring of a dragon. Now since no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are the same, and no two trees are the same, no two Ollivander wands are the same. We need to find one that will bond with you, and there is only one that will. While other wands might work for you, no other wand than that which has bonded with you will ever let you achieve your full potential.”

Mel ignored the tape measure, which was now measuring the height of her forehead, in favour of taking in every single word that fell from Mr Ollivander’s mouth. She briefly thought of her sister and mother waiting outside, and she even thought about how they needed to make it back to the Leaky Cauldron in time or their international floo network connection will expire, but she didn’t voice any concerns. While she would usually just tell the man to get on with it already, the information about wands was too intriguing to let it slip by.

“Wands are a complicated matter, Miss Vera. It often takes many tries to find the correct one. Some wandmakers let the wizards decide on their wand, but here at Ollivanders, we always let the wand make the choice, no matter how long it takes. That’s enough!” Mr Ollivander waved his hand and the tape-measure, that was just measuring the length of her nose, curled up on the counter. Mr Ollivander hummed. He picked one of the boxes, took out a beautiful, white wand and offered it to her. “Try this one. Aspen and unicorn hair, thirteen inches, supple. Don’t worry, it won’t break. Grip it firmly and give it a wave.”

Mel’s fingers shook as she wrapped them around the wooden handle. But before she could even move the wand, Mr Ollivander yanked it out of her hand.

“No, no, not that one. Here. Try this one. Oak and phoenix feather, ten and a half inches, springy,” he said as he offered her a light-brown, slightly curved wand, but he took it away again as soon as her hand gripped the wood. “No, not this one either. How about this? Rowan and phoenix feather, twelve inches, rather yielding. No! No, no, that’s not it. Here. Beech and unicorn hair, nine and a quarter inches, quite bendy. No, no, no, this one’s not right! How about this? Walnut and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches, pliant. No! Definitely not this one!”

Mel grit her teeth. From what he had told her, she expected this to take some time, but this was getting ridiculous. She hasn’t even tried the wands! How could he know that none of those wands was good for her when he took them away as soon as she touched them?

“A difficult customer, eh? Don’t worry, we’ll find one that’s just for you. Here, try this.”

And so, Mel tried. She tried yew and ash and cherry and hawthorn and chestnut and fir, she tried phoenix feather and unicorn hair and dragon heartstring, she tried ten inches and twelve inches and fourteen inches, she tried supple and brittle and pliant and yielding. Each time, Mr Ollivander took the wand away as soon as she grasped it. And with each wand, she grew more irritated. Surely her mom and Maggie were tired of waiting by now and were on their way to the Leaky Cauldron. Or maybe all this extra time would result in a much higher price.

Mel grit her teeth and pawed at another wand with a speed born of anger. Mr Ollivander wrenched it from her grip, pale eyes shining and a small, secretive smile on his face. “Hmm… Perhaps…”

Mel watched as the man took one of the boxes and opened it, gazed into it for a short moment, and then pulled out a wand as black as the starless night’s sky. “Try this one. Ebony and dragon heartstring. Eleven inches, quite swishy.”

Frowning at the wand, Mel took it into her hand. The handle felt strange between her fingers, it wasn’t set apart from the body of the wand, like most of the ones she’d tried, but it had a strange, asymmetrical shape. Gripping it a little tighter, Mel realized she didn’t mind the feeling of it in her hand. It was a little heavy, but the unusual shape of the handle felt nice in her palm. It made her feel… warm. She could feel it spreading through her in waves, from her right hand through her torso, down to her feet and then back up. It was like waves of warm water washed over her. The wand seemed to agree with her sentiment; as soon as she gripped it tighter, the tip shone with a bluish-white light and let out a burst of colourful sparks.

“Hmm—hmm. I knew we would find one just for you,” Mr Ollivander nodded.

After the small fireworks, the wand seemed to calm down, even its light went out. It looked like just an ordinary piece of wood in her hand. But Mel knew it was far from that.

“It’s headstrong, this one. Be careful with it. Ebony is very stubborn and exceptionally adapted to duels, transfiguration and curses. And dragon heartstring, while quite possibly the most powerful core, learns fast and learns well, but it doesn’t make a difference between good and evil. Some of the most talented witches and wizards owned wands with dragon heartstring cores, and in their hands, the wands were capable of many a great deed. Minerva McGonagall, Hermione Granger… Bellatrix Lestrange. Hmm… you have a warrior’s wand, Miss Vera. I sincerely hope you will never have to use it as such,” Mr Olivander said, his soft voice slightly darker than before. The warmth disappeared from Mel’s body. Curses? She didn’t want to curse anyone! She didn’t want to do bad things! However, Mr Ollivander seemed ignorant of her inner struggle. He gently pried the wand from her hand and put it in its box, before he offered it back to her. “That’ll be seven galleons, please.”

Mel’s throat was clenched even as she placed seven gold coins onto the counter. She clutched the black box to her chest, looking at it with worried eyes. A warrior’s wand. But she didn’t want to be a warrior. She wanted to be a leader, a protector, the voice of reason and change. Not a… a fighter. She didn’t want to duel, whatever that was. A warrior’s wand was not a good choice for her, she thought. Then again, the wand chooses its wizard. And maybe this particular wand wasn’t as keen on fighting as other ebony wands. After all, everyone was different, and if the wand chooses who its owner will be, then perhaps the wands were all different, too.

Just as she turned to leave, the bell above the door rang. A woman came into the shop, tall, lean, with aristocratic face and chin turned up. Behind her trailed a girl, not older than Mel herself, with brown hair, wide, greenish-brown eyes and a button nose. The girl had the same aristocratic featured the woman had, the same eyes, and they carried themselves with the same regal air of aloof easiness. It was clear they were mother and daughter

“Ah! Miss Jameson, it’s so good to see you!” Mr Ollivander spoke in that soft, lulling voice of his. “Elm and phoenix feather, eight and three-quarters inches, unyielding, am I correct?”

“Indeed so,” said the woman with a charming smile. “An excellent wand, I must say. But my wand is not why we’re here.”

Before she could see more of the exchange, Mel walked out of the store. While she was curious, she knew that choosing a wand was a personal experience on some level and should probably not be observed by strangers.

She found her mom and sister exactly where she left them. Maggie was petting Kit, who was dozing on her hand. She squealed when she saw Mel and the owl hooted its displeasure at being so roughly woken.

“You’re back! How did it go?”

“I got it,” Mel said proudly. “Ebony and dragon heartstring! Mr Ollivander said some of the most powerful witches had wands with dragon heartstring in them!”

“Does that mean you’ll be powerful?” Maggie asked with wide eyes and wonder in her face. In her six years, she couldn’t yet understand the concept of power. Then again, Mel probably didn’t understand it, either.

“We still have a long time for that to happen,” Marisol said gently. “Come on, girls, we must get to the Leaky Cauldron before our floo connection expires.”

After putting Kit back in his cage, and with Belthazor comfortably seated on Mel’s shoulders, the two sisters followed after their mother, hand in hand. While she was sad that she wouldn’t be going to an American school, Mel couldn’t wait to get to Hogwarts. A school of magic. A whole new world would be open up to her, a world where she could learn and be the best person she could. And she would be the best.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that's it! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think in the comments or come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://justalittlewritingnerd.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> Also, let me know what you guys think about Mel's wand! I said in the beginning that this would be a bit of character study, and that's where the wand comes in. There's a reason for her wand wood, core, length and flexibility. Let me know what you think! Maggie and Macy will have their wands revealed in later stories, as well.
> 
> I hate you all, hoomans!


End file.
